A small warning.. This chapter is violent! Thanks for all the favs and follows! R&R please!

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It was the first time Eleanor didn't look forward to the break of dawn. When the sun returned, the damage would become clear. It had taken a long time for her to get back inside after Butch left. And Frank had never left her side. Her bedroom was hers again, but she found she could not sleep in the sheets that still carried the musky smell of the criminal that had previously occupied it. Mother had told her she'd wash her daughter's bedding in the morning. Her room still looked like he'd be back any moment. He had kept the shirt she had given him and left his old one behind. Mother had been unsuccessful at cleaning it properly. It was so old and worn down, its faded yellow color remained. .

When the break of dawn arrived, mother refused to come out of her own bedroom. It was useless to wait for the rooster announcing morning. There was no rooster to wait for anymore. Father had been so proud of that damn bird, strutting around the ranch proudly. Now its shiny green tail feathers were covered in yellow dust as the beautiful rooster lay lifeless in the sand. Already torn to shreds by roaming coyotes.

Frank seemed just as dazed by the whole event, and it had somehow transformed him into more than a silly young man doing chores around the ranch. Or the sidekick of a notorious outlaw that used him at his own beg and call. When morning came, and Eleanor found the young criminal in the kitchen, his red rimmed eyes had darkened. Making him look a lot more dangerous than the previous days.

"Did you sleep at all?" Eleanor asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting down next to him. He shook his head slowly, his eyes fixated on a small beetle making its way across the long wooden dining table. "Ah cleaned mah rifle" he said and reached beside him to reveal an old but clean Winchester repeater. He placed it on the table with a loud thud and looked up at her. Challenging her to say something about it. Eleanor blinked, the rifle had come as a surprise to her. He had only been carrying one Colt around for the entire duration of his stay.

"Is this yours?" she asked, staring at the weapon. He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "No one else in the gang knows how to handle it. So ah suppose that makes it mine. Mah pa taught me how to shoot turkeys. Used a rifle just like this one for it."

"I bet you haven't shot a turkey in years" Eleanor whispered and looked at him sadly. Still wondering how a boy like this could end up with the likes of Butch. "That aint fair.." Frank said, looking up at her sharply. "Ye don't think about shooting birds when there's folks emptying their guns on ye wherever ye go."

"Breaking the law is the easy way, Frank. I do believe that." She spoke back. He huffed and shifted in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Breaking the law aint that easy.. burning down a barn and telling ye it's in name of the law.. that's easy." He said. She was silent, gazing at him wearily. He was angry. But she knew she wasn't the reason. When things seemed to be unjustified, Frank would usually start showing signs of irritation. He had a strong moral code, which made it all the more surprising he was running with a gang of outlaws.

"You think he'll come back?" she asked. His eyes met hers, and after a moment he shook his head. "Butch aint comin' back, miss Hartley. He aint like that."

She laughed despite herself. "Of course he isn't. Well.. I'm going to miss him anyway. You can tell him that when you meet up with him again. Our goodbye was less than gratifying. He took off so quickly." She said. Frank was silent and lowered his gaze. Interacting with women was hard when you were at a loss of words half of the time. He swallowed nervously, his eyes going around the small room as if he expected the right words to be written on the walls.

"Well, ah promise te tell him everything ye want me to say te him.. Ah'll be talkin' into the barrel of his gun ah expect but.. ah promise anyway."

She looked up and smiled at him gratefully, chuckling at the nervous state he was in. "Thank you, Frank." She said. He gave her a lopsided smile and a breathy chuckle.

Their conversation was interrupted when mother finally decided to join them. Still in her morning robes and three messily knitted shawls around her shoulders she waltzed into the kitchen and took out a frying pan. "I suppose no one had had any decent breakfast yet?" she grumbled.

Frank shook his head frantically. He wouldn't dare enter her kitchen "No, ma'am. Ahm usually not the cook when ahm with the gang. They don't trust me with them food supplies." Mother didn't look up and just huffed in irritation. "They can burn down my barn and kill my cows and hens but they'll never tell me I can't cook." She moped. Eleanor and Frank gave eachother a small knowing smile. Mother was thankfully getting her moxie back.

"Where's that old dog?" the older woman asked, cracking three eggs into a sizzling pan. "How does he likes his eggs?"

"He left last night, mother. I thought you knew. He thought it to be too dangerous to stick around." Eleanor said. Mother slammed the pot of coffee onto the counter loudly. "Dog.. leaving defenceless women after they helped him back on his unwashed feet. A dog! And an ungrateful one at that!" she said. Eleanor frowned. "well what would you have him do about this? Have some showdown with the rangers on the front lawn? This isn't his fight." She said.

"It's not his fight either!" Mother spat back, aiming a yoke covered spatula at a terrified Frank. "But he's still here, isn't he?!"

"Because Butch told me to stay!" Frank peeped in his leader's defence. The women were quiet, gazing at him in surprise. "Them rangers don't really know me very well. I don't think they'll recognize me. But they'll know Butch when they see him. Ah.. ahm more useful."

A short silence followed.

"Alright, mister useful.. how do you like your eggs?" Mother spoke eventually, turning back to her stove.

Breakfast went as any other day. As if nothing ever happened. In reality, it was the ranch's occupants that did their very best to live their lives as normally as possible even after the ordeal. There seemed to be a dark cloud above their heads none of them felt like recognizing as an immediate threat. The first repairs were done on the barn that same afternoon under grandfather's ever incoherent supervision. He seemed as resilient as his daughter in law. Some of the wood that hadn't been burned through all the way could still be used. Grandfather had Frank and his granddaughter separate it from the destroyed beams. With a little hard work and ingenuity the old man was sure a new barn could be made from the leftovers of the fire.

The strenuous labor in the meek winter sun put everyone's minds on something more productive than the ever nearing threat, and mother was even reported smiling a couple of times during the day. The three sheep had survived the fire, and were put in the storage room next to the house until a new barn was ready for them. A couple of brave hens had been smart enough to run for it when Elton and his men had showed up. They returned to the ranch during the late hours of the morning. Eleanor couldn't recall ever been so happy to see two chickens.

She was in the kitchen in the late afternoon, chatting with her mother and tasting the freshly made rabbit stew they would have for dinner when Grandfather called them. In the red light of the setting sun, a dust cloud could be made out in the distance. Horsemen, riding fast at a steady pace in their direction.

Mother placed her hand over her eyes to be able to make out the still tiny figures, but there was no question who it was. "Elton.. " she said. "And the rangers"

Grandfather cocked his shotgun, but mother placed her hand on the barrel. "We're not about to shoot rangers, paps. These are good men. Real law men.. I trust them." She said, Grandfather huffed and spat in the dirt. He had never been a big supporter of any law men. He had seen too much in his long lifetime to know there were all sorts of men that called themselves law men, and few of them were clean.

"Lock the storage room after you fed the sheep, Elly. They won't kill any more of my animals." Mother said and tossed her daughter a set of keys. She then turned to Frank and grabbed him by the front of his shirt before he could get out of her way. She pulled him close to her. "You are going to promise me something now, boy."

Frank stared at her wide eyed and nodded frantically. "Yes, Ma'am!"

"These men are going to take me away, and do Lord knows what to this ranch. You will hide my daughter from them and do whatever it takes to keep her out of their hands. Now do I have your God honest word on that, Frank Taylor?"

He swallowed thickly, but after a moment, he nodded slowly in understanding. "She'll fight me." He peeped.

"Oh, I reckon she will. But I expect you to be fighting back." Mother said and let go of his shirt. "Go saddle your horse. And tell that dog of a leader of yours to keep his own and his gang's paws off my daughter or I'll be coming for him."

Frank nodded again and tripped over his own feet running. The older woman turned to Grandfather and smiled. "We've been through worse, haven't we, Pa?" Grandfather just spat on the wooden boards of the porch.

Eleanor was still in the storage room making sure the sheep were comfortable and properly cared for when the horsemen arrived and halted in front of the house. She made a move for the door to aid her family but was grabbed from behind. A hand was pressed to her mouth. She struggled. "Sssh!" Frank hissed in her ear. "Ye keep still now."

Dan Reid stared at the burned barn for a moment and turned to Elton.

"Is that your doin'?"

Elton shifted in his saddle and rolled his shoulders in agitation. "That could very well be"

"Well then I sure do hope you're proud of yourself." The ranger sneered and got off his horse. His men followed his example.

"Mrs. Hartley, Mr. Elton over here claims you shot one of his men." Dan said and took a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Now here I have a signed arrest warrant from Mr. Cole, asking me to arrest you and your family for the murder of Mr. Jake Hoskins."

Mother eyed the ranger with her chin held high. "For all I care his name was Jesus Christ.. I didn't bother to ask his name when I shot him through his head." she spoke daringly.

Dan frowned and sighed, not feeling too keen about arresting a woman. "One of Mr. Elton's men also claimed to have seen the likes of Butch Cavendish on your land. Now I sure do hope he was mistaken of course cause I wouldn't want him to be anywhere near you or your family." He said. Mother chuckled and looked at Grandfather. "You hear that, Pa? Butch Cavendish has been spotted near our ranch. Well I sure do feel honoured now, Mr. Reid."

Dan shifted his weight slowly and breathed in deep. "Mrs. Hartley.." He started.

"I would remember it if Butch Cavendish was on my ranch, don't you think? And I don't recall any of the sort. Do you Pa?"

Grandfather shook his head slowly. Evans shifted in his saddle and spat in the dirt. "Lying ol' sow.." He grumbled. "I rode with that owl hoot for three years. I know what he looks like."

"That enough of you, Evans!" Dan said. "And I sure do hope that's true, Mary. But I gotta take you in. I promise you'll have a fair trial. You and your.. daughter. Where is she?" He looked around, but saw no one. Elton did the same, his eyes moving around the ranch quickly, his pointy nose in the air as if he tried to sniff her out.

"My daughter left. She went out to get new livestock and supplies for the barn. If you have the time, Mr. Reid. You can wait here on her. She'll be back in four days." Mother said. Elton looked at her sharply and narrowed his eyes. "She's lying.." he said. "I know her.. and I know her damn daughter. They're inseparable. That girl didn't go anywhere. And where is that ranch hand? Arrest him too, Ranger!"

Dan frowned. "Ranch hand? The Hartleys have no ranch hand, Henry. See, this isn't going anywhere. Your men claim to have seen not only Cavendish but also some imaginary ranch hand no one knows a thing about. "

"Evans might be a poor excuse of a man, but he's not blind! And he owes me far too much to be lying to me, Ranger! Ranch hand or not.. these women are to be taken into custody. Or didn't Mr. Cole make himself clear enough to you?" Elton shot back. Dan stared at him furiously. "Crystal.." He mumbled and took out his hand cuffs when he turned back to Mother.

From a crack in the wooden walls of the storage room both Eleanor and Frank took in the scene unfolding in front of them. The moment the ranger touched Mother's arm to hand cuff her, Grandfather lifted his shotgun and yelled something incoherent.

A shot was fired and the old man was thrown back into his rocking chair and hung over its arm rest like a grotesque rag doll, blood pooling around the chair as it swung back and forth. Elton put his smouldering gun back into its holster.

Eleanor tried to scream but Frank's hand was still firmly pressed against her mouth as he pulled her away from the wall and into his arms, muffling her crying against his shoulder. The only person's scream that echoed through the sky was Mother's as she struggled against the ranger's strong grip.

"Goddamn it, Henry!" Dan yelled. "Are you out of your damn mind?!"

"Get her out of here! Arrest her! Now we're even, Mrs. Hartley!" Elton said to the frantic woman as she was lead to the ranger's horse with difficulty. "Search the place!" Elton's men got off their horses.

"No one else is here, you damn fool!" Dan growled, helping Mother onto his horse.

"We'll see about that." Elton said and tossed a box of matches at Dan, who caught it with a confused expression. "Burn the house!"

"I will do no such thing!" Dan said and threw the matchbox back at him, causing the box to open and matches to fly everywhere. "Sit on it, Henry. I'm tired of your bullshit." The ranger said and turned his horse to begin his ride back to Colby. Mother's cries disappeared on the horizon.

Elton waited till the ranger was out of hearing range before turning to Evans. "I swear if that house isn't a pile of smouldering ash by tomorrow morning I'll blow your brains out." Evans nodded and Elton gazed at the house one more time before following in the ranger's trail.

Frank peered through the crack of the wooden boards and followed Evans with his sharp young eyes. The man circled around the house, spat in the dirt and looked at the destroyed barn for a moment. Making the young outlaw wonder when he was going to strike the match. It had gotten awfully quiet in the storage room. Moments ago, Eleanor's stifled cries had been the only sound. But she had grown silent. He frowned and looked over his shoulder to see what she was doing when he felt the barrel of his own gun press against the side of his head.

"I'm going to shoot him, Frank. And you won't stop me." She whispered, her voice raspy from crying. He frowned and held up his hands, whimpering softly. "Ah don't think that's a very good idea, miss Hartley. He might be quicker than you." she cocked the gun and he closed his eyes tightly at the sickening sound. "You sit here and be quiet." He nodded and the gun was removed. He watched her get up and open the door silently, peering around the doorway.

The clattering of pans could be heard. Evans had gone inside the house to see if there was anything to take before he'd commence to burn it down. He was bend over a chest in the livingroom and examined the various quilts mother had knitted over the years. It was easy to sneak up on him, easier than she had anticipated. He stiffened when a gun was pressed against the back of his head.

"You put that down, you low life or I'll kill you."

He dropped the quilt, held up his hands and smiled to himself. "I see ol' Cavendish taught you a few tricks, didn't he?" he chuckled. "How much of his imaginary Silver did he promise you for spreadin' yer legs for his gang?" She cocked the gun. "I will not stand for any profanity in my father's house. Cavendish has nothing to do with me knowing how to handle a gun. That was taught to me by my late father. Whose ranch you won't be burning down on my watch. Keep your hands where I can see them, and start walking backwards towards the front door."

For a moment it seemed like her plan was actually going to work, although a tingle of worry latched itself into the back of her mind about what she was going to do with this man once he was actually out of the house. She hadn't planned that far ahead when she had taken Frank's gun from its holster. But she didn't need to think about it. Evans, with his many years as a gunslinging outlaw, was much quicker than she was. He turned around and grabbed her wrist, yanking it to the side as she fired. She missed him by a few inches, and hit a burning oillamp instead, which shattered to the floor. The flames ignited the puddle of oil around one of the dining chairs. Evans wrung the gun from her hand and pulled her arms behind her back roughly, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Ahm sure Butch told you all about me, didn't he?" he snarled at her, his face close to her own. "Ah suppose there's time to finish what we started before I burn down yer daddy's house with you in it!" She kicked his knee and he cried out in pain. "Bitch!" He hollered and slammed her with her back down onto the table, pressing her arms down beside her head. "Now if ye keep trashing around like this, I might have to stake ye down to that here table te keep ye in one place until ahm done with you." She stopped moving, breathing rapidly, and stared up at him with furious eyes. The thick metallic taste of blood on her lips. He pressed the air from her lungs mercilessly as he pushed his weight down onto her thin frame and she could hear the sickening sound of him unbuckling his belt.

"Ah suppose ah could marry ye after this too. It's not like anyone who'd want a soiled dove anyhow." He chuckled. She spat at him and laughed as his haggard face was covered in red specks. He lifted his gun, and for a moment she thought he had had enough and was going to end her life, but he turned the pistol in his hand and slammed her across her face with the grip. The force of the impact against her head rendered her dizzy as blood gushed down her face. What happened next would forever be unclear to her, but his weight was suddenly pulled off of her. She tried to lift herself to see where he went, but her vision was too blurry.

Frank had pulled Evans off her and had slammed the back of his rifle into his face. Knocking him unconscious. His worried face came into view as he leaned over her. She blinked, flames were dancing behind him, the room was on fire. "We gotta go, miss Hartley. The house is on fire." She locked eyes with him and frowned. "Did you kill him?" she whispered. He shook his head frantically. "why not?" she asked. Plates fell from the cupboard as the wood was eaten by the flames. The loud crashing sound distracting Frank from answering her question right away. "Can we talk about that later?" he peeped. She shook her head, but only made herself more dizzy. She reached up to feel her head, and whimpered when her hand touched a deep wound.

"Come on, miss Hartley!" Frank pressed on and shoved one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. He pulled her up into his arms and carried her outside. Her head lolling back as she watched the living room disappear from her view for the last time. The place where she had just laid, quickly covered itself in flames. She was placed on the ground gently and watched Frank sprint back inside the house to retrieve the still unconscious Evans.

"No!" she yelled as he dragged the man across the porch. "I want him dead!" But Frank didn't stop until he had placed Evans with his back against a pole of the horse pen. He took out his rope and tied the man to it.

"Ah knows something better fer him." Frank said, his voice had something she hadn't heard before. There was no innocence left. "Ahm gonna tell Butch he's right here. Aint going nowhere." She gazed up at the sky, the first stars already visible, and breathed in the cold air polluted with smoke. She tilted her head and her eyes fell upon the lifeless body of her grandfather, hanging in his rockingchair. The sound of the crackling fire made her feel sick. She shut her eyes tightly to keep from crying. When the first sob escaped her lips, she was heaved into the air again and pushed onto Frank's horse. She struggled against it weakly. "I don't..want to go.." she cried.

He pushed her harder, until she was atop the horse, clinging to its manes feebly. Frank sat behind her, his arms like barriers around her and grabbed the reins.

"Come on, Bobby.. git us out of here!"

The horse started galloping, heading toward the mountain ridge. She peered over Frank's shoulder until the burning house was out of view. Then everything went black.